


Designated Driver

by tinylilremus



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Arthur is legally blind, Comedy, Gwaine is useless, M/M, Romantic Comedy, and can't drive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-21
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-09-01 07:40:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8615446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinylilremus/pseuds/tinylilremus
Summary: Arthur has Nystagmus, is legally blind and can't drive. Gwaine is supposed to be the designated driver but after accepting drink after drink from the hot bartender who has a crush on him, he's far too drunk to walk let alone operate a car.  To make matters worse, Arthur's left his wallet at home so he can't even call a cab. Thankfully, his luck changes when he gets approached by a hot stranger.





	

In hindsight, Arthur really shouldn’t be that surprised. Gwaine has never really taken the job of designated driver all that seriously. With the amount of money Arthur’s had to spend on cab fares for the two of them because Gwaine “No-Beer-For-Me-Tonight-I-Swear” Orkney has been too inebriated to walk more than two steps without stumbling, Arthur probably could have justified hiring a permanent personal driver instead.

With the music of the club pounding in his ears, he watches as Gwaine accepts yet another drink from the incredibly hot, incredibly generous (and incredibly unhelpful) bartender, Percy, and has to strongly resist the urge to punch his friend. It’s alright for him. Even if Gwaine has to stumble up to their shared room on the other side of campus, he’ll probably make it there without much incident. Arthur doesn’t have that luxury. Though, ironically for Arthur, seeing at night is definitely easier than seeing in the day, he’s still legally (if not technically) blind and even as something as simple as walking home can be a challenge.

Arthur’s mostly annoyed with himself though. Knowing how good at Gwaine is at staying sober, it was downright reckless and irresponsible on his part to forget his wallet at home.

He turns away from the bar and gazes out at the far end of the room, taking off his glasses to wipe them on the hem of his shirt. The view is blurry because of his eyes tracking, but it’s alright. He’s not trying to look at anything in particular, he’s just trying to brainstorm how he’s going to get around this situation. Without cash, he can’t take a cab or the bus and his only other option is to call someone. He immediately rules out his father, the head of the university, figuring that he’d rather not put himself through another lecture about responsibility now that he’s an adult. He can’t ask his brother-in-law Leon either because Morgana’s just had her baby and he needs to be at home helping her. He considers asking Lance for a moment, but remembers that he’s away for a tennis match in Germany this weekend.

He realises that unless a miracle suddenly happens, it looks like he’s walking home after all. Two miles. Uphill. With uncooperative eyes.

He’s going to kill Gwaine.

“Hey,” says a man next to him suddenly, loud over the blaring bass and Arthur turns to look at him.

He has dark hair, an open, honest-looking face and the most downright kissable lips Arthur has ever seen. On any other night, Arthur would have been instantly drawn in, but tonight he’s hesitant and annoyed.

“I saw you looking at me from over there, so I thought I’d come over and introduce myself. My name’s Merlin and I’d love to buy you a drink.”

“I wasn’t looking at you,” says Arthur bluntly. “I couldn’t even see you. I can’t see much past that pillar over there.”

He gestures to a pillar just beyond the dancefloor and Merlin’s eyebrows shoot up.

“That bad, huh?” he says, seemingly undeterred by Arthur’s tone. “Well, even if you weren’t looking at me, you’re cute and I’d still like to get you that drink.”

The ‘no’ is on the very tip of Arthur’s tongue (the man’s name is _Merlin_ for Christ’s sake), but he changes his mind at the last second. He’s stuck in this club with no wallet and no way home. What would be the harm in having one drink with this guy? Gwaine is way past the point of being able to handle money and Arthur is pretty sure that alcohol is the only way he’s going to make it through tonight.

“Alright,” says Arthur, and Merlin’s face splits into a showstopping grin. “Name’s Arthur, by the way.”

“Pleased to meet you, Arthur. Another one of those?” Merlin asks, gesturing to the almost-empty bottle of beer in his hand. Arthur nods back, unable to stop a smile spreading across his own face as Merlin slips off to get their drinks.

The night suddenly doesn’t seem so bleak and Arthur’s not sure what to do with that.

“So, I’m just going to get it out of the way so I know and we can avoid it later if it makes you uncomfortable,” says Merlin, settling down on the stool next to Arthur’s. “Why do your eyes move back and forth like that? You don’t have to tell me if you’d rather not talk about it. I’m just too nosey for my own good.”

“No, it’s fine,” says Arthur, finishing the warmish dregs of his last beer and starting on the ice-cold one Merlin’s just brought him. “It’s called Nystagmus and it’s a side-effect of having Ocular Albinism. I’ve had it since I was born. Anyway, it’s harmless, it just means my eyes are pretty light-sensitive and I can’t see stuff a certain distance away from me.”

“I see,” says Merlin. He doesn’t seem to be overly fascinated or put-off by it, which is a rare thing in guys Arthur finds attractive. Arthur catches himself secretly hoping that he’s not just imagining the electricity between the two of them.

For a moment or two Merlin doesn’t say anything and Arthur doesn’t say anything either because he doesn’t know what to fill the sudden conversational lull with, so instead he listens to the relentless thrumming of the bass in the speakers.

“God sorry,” says Merlin, toying awkwardly with the rim of his glass of juice. “That probably wasn’t the best way to start a conversation when you want it to continue.”

“No don’t apologise, I appreciate the upfrontness,” says Arthur. “I don’t know how many guys I’ve spoken to where we go through a whole conversation and they don’t hear a word I say because they’re so distracted by my eyes but are too awkward to ask about it.”

“They are pretty distracting,” says Merlin and Arthur frowns slightly at that. “Shit, no I mean because they’re beautiful, not because of the moving. Fuck, this is what I get for trying to flirt while sober.”

“Relax, Merlin,” chuckles Arthur. “You’re really not drinking?”

“Designated driver,” says Merlin. “Although if Elena gets her way with that brunette, I might be out of a job.”

He points to the dancefloor where a blonde girl has her tongue halfway down another girl’s throat and rolls his eyes.

“Well you’re doing a damn sight better than my designated driver,” says Arthur pointing behind him to where Gwaine is slumped over the bar while Percy tends to him.

“Oh god, your designated driver is Mr Smoulder?” laughs Merlin. “My friend, Percy, has had a crush on him for months.”

“Well that crush has turned into me not having a ride home tonight,” says Arthur, surprised at how amusing the situation seems now that Merlin is laughing about it.

“God, sorry,” says Merlin with an apologetic grimace. “If I had known I would have told Percy to hold back on the alcohol.”

“Nah, it’s not your fault. Gwaine could have mentioned that he was supposed to be driving tonight at any point. He’s just an irresponsible prick like that sometimes.”

There’s another lull and this time Arthur uses it to study Merlin a bit more. Aside from his gorgeous, full lips and piercing blue eyes, he’s also got the most sinfully graceful fingers Arthur’s ever seen. He gets distracted watching them wrapped around Merlin’s glass and imagines them wrapped around something else.

“Er, whereabouts on campus do you stay?” asks Merlin, jolting Arthur from his thoughts. Right. Present. Not being weird. He can do this.

“Avalon, you?” he replies, wondering why Merlin is asking.

“Essetir.” Merlin swills his juice around in his glass. “That’s pretty much right next door to Avalon. I could give you a lift if you want? I mean, I’ve spent all night not drinking and now probably won’t have anyone to give a lift to, and you’re liftless so it all makes sense.”

“I… er… thanks, that would be great, actually,” says Arthur with a smile, finding his already improving enjoyment of the evening skyrocketing now that he knows he’ll be getting home safely.

He finds it strange because for all that Merlin is good-looking and seems fun to talk to and be around, Arthur doesn’t actually know anything about him and he wouldn’t normally readily just accept a lift from a stranger in a bar. There’s something about Merlin, though, that makes Arthur feel at ease – as if he’s just picking up a conversation with an old friend where it left off – and he has to admit that he’s curious to see if whatever spark there seems to be between them fans into anything substantial.

“So, before I commit to letting you drive me home, are there any quirks of yours I should know about?” asks Arthur. “I mean, you’re not a serial killer or anything, are you?”

“If I was a serial killer I’d hardly admit it, would I?” chuckles Merlin. The sound makes the hair on Arthur’s arms stand up pleasantly. “I do actually have this colour-changing thing that happens with my eyes but that’s a long story that I’ll tell you another day. For now, just work on the assumption that I think that killing someone as hot as you would be a crime.”

“Okay, but you’re aware that it literally would be a crime, right?” laughs Arthur. “Murder is illegal, no matter how good-looking the victim is. I am, however, very flattered that you don’t want to kill me because you find me attractive. For what it’s worth, you’d be pretty safe from me too.”

Merlin blushes a little at this and the sudden flush of pink to his cheeks is so cute that Arthur throws all caution to the wind and leans in to kiss him. It’s messy, partly because of the awkwardness of the bar stools, but also because Merlin’s lips were still slightly parted from laughing and their teeth clack together noisily as a result. It still feels like fireworks and everything Arthur has been waiting for his whole life though, and Arthur realises in that moment he’s beyond fucked.

Reality sets in a moment later when he realises that Merlin is not kissing back and Arthur hastily pulls away in embarrassment.

“Fuck, Merlin, I’m so sorry. I don’t normally do that. God, you must think I’m the most presumptuous twat on the planet. I’ll go now. Sorry I fucked this up.”

Arthur stands up from his barstool and begins striding towards the door, not caring that he’ll be walking home, just wanting to put as much distance between him and what he’s just done as possible.

“Arthur, wait. I’m the twat here,” says Merlin and Arthur turns around to look at him. Merlin slowly approaches, as if scared he might chase him off if he makes any sudden movements, until he’s standing so close to Arthur that he can practically feel his heartbeat. “You took me by surprise is all. I’ve been daydreaming about kissing you since you walked in and I honestly thought I was going to be the one to have to initiate it. I’m sorry my brain chose that moment to short circuit, but it’s because I liked it. A lot.”

“So you won’t mind if I…?” Arthur’s now transfixed on Merlin’s lips and how Merlin’s breath is ghosting over his cheek. When Merlin shakes his head, Arthur surges forward to close the last of the space between them.

This time as they kiss Arthur takes note of how soft Merlin’s lips are as they glide against his, how they taste like apple from his lip balm and his mouth like mango from his drink. He pays attention to how Merlin’s breath hitches when Arthur’s hands curl around his waist, drawing him closer and makes a point to remember the feeling of Merlin’s long fingers tangled in his hair. As their tongues slide against each other, Arthur realises he’s growing impossibly hard and he thanks his lucky stars that he didn’t wear his super skinny jeans that day. The embarrassing bulge is already going to be difficult enough to hide as it is.

“Whoo, get it, Merls,” giggles Elena, the sloppy drunk blonde and Arthur reluctantly pulls away at the interruption while Merlin laughs breathlessly against his cheek.

“There’s not much going on here anymore,” says Merlin gesturing vaguely to the rest of the club. “How do you feel about me getting you home a little earlier?”

“So good,” says Arthur. “As an Econ major, though, I would just like to point out that driving to two different buildings could be seen as a waste of time and money when I’d quite like to share with you tonight. If you want to that is.”

“Well, as an Environmental Studies major,” grins Merlin, “I think it’s important to reduce the fumes we release into the atmosphere. The planet will thank us for our conscientiousness.”

“My room?” asks Arthur, “seeing as my roommate’s still drunkenly charming Captain Gun-Show back there.”

“Your room,” agrees Merlin.

And as Merlin drags him by the hand to enjoy the most tense, sexually-charged car ride of his entire twenty years of life, Arthur can’t help but be grateful, for the first time, that Gwaine is the world’s worst designated driver.


End file.
